


Fairytale Tattoos and Magical Flowers

by Caffinated_Story



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Human, Countries Using Human Names, Flowers and tattoos, Human AU, M/M, Spot where I lost my soul to flowers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-09
Updated: 2017-03-09
Packaged: 2018-10-01 18:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10195994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caffinated_Story/pseuds/Caffinated_Story
Summary: The tattoo parlour has been without a neighbour for some time, but almost overnight Preben gets a new neighbour. One who he's desperate to get to know.





	1. Chapter 1

The street was a quiet one, despite being the main shopping street in the town. No cars drove through, only the occasional bike or small motorcycle.

Changes weren’t done overnight.

So when his tattoo parlour was to get a neighbour again, he didn’t expect it to come so quietly.

Preben first noticed that the “for sale” sign in the empty shop disappeared.

Then over the weekend the shop got a paint job. Gorgeous dark green instead of the rather drab and faded grey.

Then one morning there was a sign.

“Magical Flowers” the gold lettering read, beautifully painted on top of a matt black background.

Preben had to stop and stare for a moment. He had an urge to revamp his own sign now.

The coming week he sometimes spotted movement inside the shop, but the blinds remained shut and all he heard was the unmistakable sound of hammering and sawing.

And Magical Flowers proved to be just that.  
Magical.

At least seemingly.

One Monday morning when Preben wandering down the street to open his own shop; there it was.

Flowers everywhere.

In small and large pots; hanging and standing all around the entrance.

The blinds had been drawn up, and Preben could see a barrage of colours all perfectly placed in the windows.

 

Again he had to stop and simply gawk.

He’d never been so captivated by flowers before, but better late than never he supposed.

 

Preben decided he could wait a little longer in opening the tattoo parlour.

He had to know who owned this place.  
Had to find out who had so sneakily re-furbished an entire shop without showing their face.

 

As he pushed the door open a small bell chimed softly above his head.

The first thing that hit him was the smell of all the flowers; not overpowering or unpleasant - but rather like laying down in a large field in summer.  
It was relaxing and rejuvenating at once, and Preben wondered if this was the feeling people experienced when doing yoga or detox diets or what not.

 

“Ill be with you in a moment,” a voice said from the back room and Preben felt like he should stand as still as a stone, afraid to disturb the wonderful atmosphere.

 

Preben heard rustling of leaves and a small ‘clang’ before the door to the back room opened.

He wasn’t really expecting what the man would look like, but somehow it made sense that he’d fit right into a fairytale.

 

With blond hair and deep blue eyes, he looked a little like a fairy, or perhaps an elf.

He had a slender figure and pale skin that Preben would kill for to be allowed to tattoo.

 

“Hello, can I help you?” The man asked, and Preben really hoped he hadn’t noticed he’d been staring.

 

“Ah! Well. I wanted to wish you welcome!” Preben smiled and took a step forward, extending his hand out. “I run the tattoo parlour next door, so I wanted to say hi,”

 

“Oh,” the man replied and dusted off some dirt from his hands before taking Preben’s. “How nice.”

 

“Name’s Preben,” he smiled and shook the man’s hand. “I’m glad the shop here finally has some things in it. It looked really sad when empty,”

 

“I’m Eirik, and yes… I thought this street could use some flowers…” Eirik replied, as if he knew something Preben didn't.

 

“Totally,” Preben nodded enthusiastically. “Say, can I buy some? It be nice to freshen up my store…”

 

“Sure,” Eirik shrugged. “Any preferences?”

 

“Anything but roses,” Preben sighed. “They’re too common.”

 

“Heh, of course,” Eirik smiled briefly. “I’ll find you some… Unconventional ones then, shall I? To match your unconventional looks?”

 

“You saying I’m ugly?” Preben frowned and scratched at the one peeking up from under his jacket and swirling a little up his neck.

 

“Not at all. But tattoos still aren’t a staple for all, are they?” Eirik winked and began walking around the shop, picking up a variety of flowers as he went by the various bouquets.

Preben thought it looked like just a random selection at first, but slowly the little bouquet grew and grew with flowers in all kinds of hues of blue.

 

“That is like magic,” Preben said with a low whistle as Eirik wrapped it up nicely. “How much?”

 

“This one’s free,” Eirik smiled. “A thank you for the warm welcome,”

 

“Oh wow,” Preben hesitantly took the bouquet, admiring the flowers with a new found respect for florists. He had a strong urge to try to sketch some of them. Maybe paint some?

They could serve as a very good reference for some tattoos too when he thought a bit more about it. 

“Thank you, do drop by my store if you want, I always have coffee and a comfy chair if you need a break,”

 

“A very kind offer, might take you up on it if the flowers get too chatty,” Eirik chuckled and Preben was certain he was falling head over heels faster than he’d ever thought possible.

 

“Please do,” Preben smiled brightly. “I’ll try not to talk a hole in your head…”

“I'll keep it in mind,” Eirik gave him a sly smile, and Preben was worried he'd overstayed his welcome.

“See you around,” Preben said and grinned brightly, hoping to mask his fluttering heart with fake confidence.

“See you,” Eirik waved him goodbye, the bell over the door chiming softly as Preben closed the door behind him.

The flowers looked a little out of place in his tattoo parlour, yet Preben liked them.  
He decided to place them in the window where they'd be more likely to be appreciated by anyone walking past.  
However, he carefully plucked some out to keep on the counter.

 

He had no bookings until later, so he could sit and draw for a few hours.

 

And that became the little routine.

Preben would drop by, buy some flowers, place them in his shop and then sit and draw them until someone dropped by for a tattoo.  
If he was lucky and Eirik had few customers, he'd stay a little while and just chat. Even if Preben ended up doing most of the talking, he didn't think Eirik minded.

 

Eventually Preben got a little more bold and would drag a chair outside to try and draw the little street.

Preben liked watching Eirik working the most. If it was a quiet day for customers, then Preben would happily sit and try to sketch Eirik and his flowers.

He liked trying to capture the vibrancy but fragile flowers in his drawings.

Eirik served as a nice starting point for some ageless being, he suited being covered in flowers and Preben had no problems picturing Erik in wonderful and intricate flowing clothes.  
As long as there were flowers.  
There had to be flowers if Eirik was there.

 

Preben even started trying to tattoo some of the flowers.  
He wanted to capture their beauty forever onto skin.  
Not too bright, or too harsh lines – that could of course be done too, but Preben wanted them to look like he felt the flowers felt and looked in real life.  
Soft and a little bit magical.

 

Trial and error and practice eventually led him to the conclusion that flower tattoos would be best as watercolour styled artworks.

The realization was like opening a door.  
Preben produced a whole sketchbook in one month with nothing but ideas for flower tattoos.  
He was smitten.

 

There was still some room on his own body for more tattoos, and the idea of flowers was sounding more and more appealing to Preben.

 

“Am I interrupting something?” Eirik asked and Preben jumped. He hadn't heard Eirik enter at all – the man was as silent as flowers growing.

 

“What? Oh no. Not at all!” Preben smiled, hoping Eirik didn’t see all the sketches of him.

“Can I help you with anything?”

 

“Maybe…” Eirik replied and looked around the shop. “I was thinking of getting a tattoo…”

 

“Really?” Preben gaped. He had to be dreaming. “What, uh, what motif were you thinking?”

 

“Flowers…” Eirik replied flatly. “Or is that stupid?”

 

“Oh no. Not at all!” Preben could hardly contain his excitement. He had wanted to show Eirik his ideas, but he had been too scared Eirik would find it stupid, or even worse: creepy.

“Hang on just a moment,” Preben ducked behind his counter before producing the flower filled sketchbook. “I've been inspired by your shop...” he admitted sheepishly as he handed Eirik the sketchbook.

 

Eirik took the book silently, flipping through the pages with great care and a keen eye.  
Preben was certain he was sweating buckets as he stood there and tried not to fidget too much.

“You draw well,” he uttered after a few pages and Preben hadn't felt this relieved since being granted the permit to have his own shop.

 

“Thank you,” he beamed. “Your flowers are always so lovely, I wanted to try and capture them in a tattoo...”

 

“I'm glad you think so, but perhaps I'd stay clear of tattooing anyone with a cypress,” Eirik chuckled.

“Oh, why?” Preben craned his neck to take a better look at the flower Eirik was pointing to.

“They generally mean despair when on their own,”

“Ohhhhh!” Preben's eyes went wide. “Shit. I hadn't thought of their meaning!”

“Not everyone does,” Eirik traced the lines of the flower carefully. “But like anything else, sometimes words and meanings hold power,”

“Red roses for the one you love...” Preben muttered.

“There are many other flowers for love. Myrtle, Chinese Primrose, Red Tulips, Liliac...” Eirik explained and flipped the page. “And many whose meaning might mean something else...”

“Wow, that's cool,” Preben looked at his sketches with wide eyes. This could add a whole new dimension to the tattoos!

“I have some books, you can borrow them,” Eirik muttered and flipped the page, smiling slyly.

“Perhaps I shall have you tattoo a Circaea lutetiana,” Eirik mused.

“Which ones that?” Preben asked.

“Oh you've not got it in your book, but it's a funny little plant. It's known as 'Enchanter's Nightshade' and in flower language it can mean sorcery and witchcraft.”

“That would suit you...” Preben mumbled, realising too late he'd said it a little louder than intended.

 

“Thank you,” Eirik replied and Preben spotted a brief smile on Eirik's lips. “But I think Heather might be better...”

“And that means?”

“The white heather is for good luck, protection and for wishes to come true. Lavender heather is for admiration and solitude...” Eirik explained and continued flipping through the sketchbook.

 

“Hang on...” Preben pulled out a sheet of paper and pencil and began trying to sketch the heater out.

“Maybe if we arrange them a little like this?” he asked and turned the paper so Eirik could see.

“Hmm yes, I like that,” Eirik nodded and Preben could feel his heart beating faster.

“Perhaps a foxglove too?” he said and pointed to one Preben had drawn before.

 

“Sure,” Preben nodded eagerly and carefully placed it amongst the heater.

Eirik looked at it, gave it a satisfactory nod before continuing.

 

By the end Preben had wound a Fern, an Acanthus and some purple clovers into the design.

 

“What do you think?” Preben asked, feeling a little nervous.

 

“Perfect,” Eirik whispered as he studied the sketch. 

“Thought about where you want it to be, or?”

“My back,” Eirik replied without a second thought.

 

“All right. That gives me plenty of room for details if you want it large.”

“Yes,” Eirik nodded.

 

“It will take a few hours over some days. Doing it all in one sitting might be a little too much for you,” Preben mused. “I start with a sketch on your back so you can first see the rough shape of it all, then the outline comes next.”

“Sounds reasonable,” Eirik nodded.

 

“Colour and shading will probably be a few extra sessions depending how much time I spend and how much time you can spare here,” Preben pulled out a notebook and started looking up what times he still had available.  
“I suggest you take the sketch home and think about it for a while, and then we can start the line-work in a few days, sound good?”

Eirik appeared to mull it over for a while before nodding slowly.  
“Yes,” he muttered, studying the sketch intently for a moment before carefully rolling the piece of paper up.

“Drop by when you've thought about it,” Preben winked at him, hoping the slight blush on Eirik's face wasn't just his imagination.

 

“Sure,” Eirik mumbled and thanked him silently with a nod of acknowledgement.

Preben waved him goodbye.  
He hoped Eirik wouldn't change his mind, but pushing someone into getting a tattoo wasn't really his thing.

However, Eirik didn't change his mind.  
Although he did wait a full week before returning – but Preben was near ecstatic by the time Eirik stepped inside his store.

“You decided?” Preben asked, trying to contain his grin.

“Mhm,” Eirik nodded. 

“Any changes?”

“No,” Eirik shook his head and handed the sketch back to Preben. “So do I just... take off my shirt here or?”

“No, no. Back-room,” Preben smiled and pointed to some curtains over a doorway.

“Ah,” Eirik visibly relaxed.

“Come on in,” Preben lead the way, showing Eirik where to hang his shirt and where to lie down.

“I'll first sketch it out and then let you see how it will roughly look on your back, sound good?”

“Sure,” 

Preben smiled, trying and succeeding in not staring too hard on Eirik's back as he lay down on the bench.

He was certainly one of his most patient patrons.  
He didn't flinch or move a muscle as Preben carefully drew out a few rough lines across his back.

Nor did he seem anything but genuinely pleased with how it looked.

“Ready for the outline?” Preben asked and Eirik nodded silently.

Preben noticed Eirik flinch a little when the needle first made contact with his skin, but after that he remained motionless once more.

Fascinating really, Preben had never seen someone so calm when getting their first tattoo – least of all such a large one.

“You doing okay?” he asked several times, but Eirik insisted each time he was.

Preben was actually the one who had to pause and take a break – offering Eirik water and coffee in the process.

“You're pretty tough,” Preben chuckled as he poured Eirik a second cup of coffee.

“I've had my share of thorns in my skin, this is nothing,” Eirik retorted with a sly smirk.

 

“Thorns on your back or in your sides?” Preben grinned back.

“Hm... both,” Eirik let out a small chuckle. 

“Oh the dangers you florists encounter!” Preben said and tried to hide his laughter.

“You won't believe the wounds I endure,” Eirik replied and held his hands up for Preben to inspect.

“My deepest sympathies,” Preben half-heartedly joked. “You are a very wounded man,”

“Indeed,” Eirik nodded sombrely. “Plants do not always wish to co-operate...”

“I can see that,” Preben frowned a little, surprised how many small scars littered Eirik's hands.

“Still, it's a fun job,” Eirik added quickly, seemingly a little worried Preben would pity him too much. “Shall we continue?” Eirik asked and emptied his coffee cup.

“If you're up for it,” Preben smiled, hands itching to get back to inking inn Eirik's skin.

A nod of confirmation was all he received.

But that suited Preben fine.

Eirik was a good patron.

Hell, Preben was sure if Eirik could lie this still for any tattoo then he'd consider paying the man to get more tattoos.

Perhaps some more flowers?  
His wrists would look very good with some flowers. Perhaps also his chest?  
Preben concentrated on the delicate lines – hoping Eirik would love the tattoo enough to want more.

After all, once you'd gotten one, it was hard to stop.

 

“Right,” Preben said and carefully removed the tattoo needle. “I think we'll call it a day.”

“Okay,” Eirik sat up and yawned.

“Let me just clean up and wrap it up carefully for you,” Preben said as he began carefully tidying up the ink and needles.

 

“Mhm,” he heard Eirik mutter quietly.

By the time Preben returned with everything he'd need to clean the excess ink of Erik's skin – Eirik was standing and admiring his own back in the mirror.

“You like it?” Preben asked hesitantly. 

“Love it,” Eirik replied with a smile.

“Good,” Preben grinned in return, relaxing a little more. “We'd have an issue if you hated it.”

“Hard to hate flowers,” Eirik hummed and turned his head to admire the lines some more.

“We'll give it a week or so to heal and then I'll colour it in,” Preben said as he carefully washed the ink away, taking great care not to rub too hard on the freshly inked lines. 

“So not tomorrow?” Eirik asked.

“No,” Preben shook his head. “It's a big job this, so it's better you let your skin rest up between sessions.”

“Ah,” Eirik nodded slowly. “Can I still come by?”

“Uh, what?” Preben momentarily stopped cleaning and simply stared at Eirik. 

“Can I drop by? After work maybe?”

“Uh of course!” Preben replied quickly. “You're always welcome,” he added with a laugh.

“You sure? Don't want to be a bother...” Eirik shrugged.

“Hardly!” Preben grinned, resisting the urge to ruffle Eirik's hair. That as a step too far in terms of familiarity between them.

“Oh, thank you,” Eirik whispered softly.

“Come by anytime, I'll always have time to let you sit and rest if, what was it you said? Your flowers get too chatty?” Preben winked.

“Mhm,” Eirik nodded. “Or at least the humans who order them...”

“I'll stock up on coffee for you my friend,” Preben said as he finished cleaning up the last of the excess ink. “So come by whenever. Door's always open.”


	2. Chapter 2

___________________

 

Eirik came and went.  
He'd drop by during lunch with little things he'd baked – some days it was sweet buns and other time rye bread. Other times he'd baked lavender cookies or a rose cake.

Preben was positively in love with everything.

If the flower shop was having a slow day, Eirik would sit by the window and sip coffee from Preben's comfy leather chair, just quietly listening to music and Preben's rather constant chattering.

Sometimes Eirik would talk a little – about his flowers mostly, yet Preben felt is he just listened closely enough, then Eirik would tell him more about himself.  
Little things at first.  
Bigger ones later.

What he liked and disliked.  
Where he'd lived before and where he'd love to travel to later.  
Small snippets that just made Preben even more interested.

Then there was of course the flowers.  
Eirik always brought one with him – usually accompanied with a little note as to what it meant.  
He appreciated it a lot.

It was fascinating all the things a single flower could convey.

 

“Chrysanthemum, for friendship,” Eirik said as he handed Preben a bright blue one.

“Is the colour significant here?” Preben asked.

“No. Not this one,” Eirik shook his head. “It's just food dye in water...”

However, the next day he had a pure white one with him. “White. For truth,” he explained.

Preben noted it down in his little flower filled journal. 

The next was a yellow Agrimony.   
“Thankfulness. Gratitude,” Eirik explained before taking a seat by the window.

 

Preben didn't question it. He just took each flower with a smile.

 

The cactus was unexpected, but much appreciated – because Preben couldn’t kill it very easily.  
Added bonus was that is apparently meant warmth or ardent love.  
Eirik had muttered the last words so softly Preben hardly caught it, but he'd smiled happily.

 

Some flowers meant more than others – others had a very distinct meaning while others where more vague.

Eirik sometimes told Preben the more hidden meanings. Other time he just stared one and left it at that.

 

“What flower would you suggest I tattoo on myself then?” Preben asked halfway through the colouring of Eirik's tattoo.

 

“Ash tree,” Eirik replied so quickly Preben wondered if he'd read his mind.

 

“And it means?”

“Grandeur,” Eirik replied. “But a coreopsis would suit you too. It means 'always cheerful'...”

“Oh yeah,” Preben laughed. “That does sound like a good idea. Do they have a more, uh, normal name?”

“Tickseed,” Eirik replied flatly.

“Excuse you,” Preben grimaced. “Rude.”

“Common name and meaning do not always co-align,” Eirik said softly, and Preben decided not to take offence.

 

By the time Eirik's tattoo was done, Preben knew at least the meaning of fifty different flowers.

Somewhat useful, but it was nothing compared to seeing the smile on Eirik's face when he could see the tattoo in all it's coloured glory.

“It's beautiful,” he had whispered and Preben was worried he'd start crying at an moment.

 

“I'm glad you liked it. It was a real pleasure getting to tattoo you you know...” Preben said and tried to hide his blush. “So you know... if you ever want another one. You know where to find me.” he laughed awkwardly and hoped he didn't seem too forward.

 

“Yes,” Eirik replied and laughed softly. “I will... consider it.”

Preben smiled.

However. The next day Eirik had a very lovely fuchsia plant with him, but it's meaning he didn't explain.

 

Preben asked, but Eirik just smiled and shook his head.  
“You'll have to find out yourself,” he'd said before leaving, which only made Preben even more confused.

 

The next was a white gardenia.  
Eirik didn't tell him what it meant – just that it belonged in the coffee family.  
Preben figured it was just Eirik's weird way of thanking him for the coffee, so he didn't ask any more.

 

Then came a hibiscus flower.

Next was a Honeysuckle. A yellow Iris followed.

 

A little bouquet of lilacs – but with no meaning that Eirik would mention.

 

Preben was beginning to feel like he was missing something.

Eirik's next present was a myrtle.

“I'm missing something here, aren't I?” Preben asked as he stared at the plant.

“Maybe...” Eirik had shrugged.

The next plant was a Maiden's Blush Rose.  
Eirik was very clear in his pronunciation.

So this time sitting idly by just wouldn't do.

Preben looked it up the moment Eirik left.

 

Maiden's Blush Rose.  
He checked the name up with the pictures and the flower currently next to his computer.

 

'If you love me, you will find out.'

Preben read and re-read the words over and over.

 

Slowly the words sank in.

He immediately looked up the others; and for each flower's meaning he discovered, the more red he felt his face go.

 

Love.  
Every damned one had meant love in some way.

 

Erik had been flirting with him. With flowers!  
Preben hid his face in his hands and groaned.

 

The gardenia wasn't just for the coffee. It also meant 'secret love'.

It was so stupidly obvious Preben could hit himself with the potted plant.

 

Still, he thought to himself as he stared at the numerous flowers that now filled his apartment and shop, of course a flower shop owner would use flowers.  
It was cute.  
Stupidly cute really.

 

Preben decided he had to try to do the same.  
But he couldn't just waltz in and ask Eirik for a red rose.

Oh no.  
He had to be sly about it.

 

So he searched and searched.  
Cross-referenced his own notes and the numerous books Eirik had leant him.

And he finally found one.  
Windflowers.  
Little dainty white flowers with a name he couldn't help but love a little too.

No flower shop besides Eirik's would possibly stock them, so Preben decided to paint them.

A whole little canvass of windflowers.

 

A symbol of love.  
Preben smiled as he sketched them all out.

 

There would be no red roses or tulips from him.  
But instead a million little white symbols of love.

An untraditional reply to what anyone would consider a rather untraditional method of flirting.

 

Preben only thought it fitting really.

 

He couldn't wait to give it to Eirik.

 

_____________________________

 

“Morning,” Eirik greeted him, looking a little perplexed at Preben being in his shop again – they'd both gotten so used to the routine of Eirik dropping by his now that it felt a little like meeting the first time all over again.

 

“Good morning. I have something for you,” Preben shifted his weight from one foot to the other nervously, aware that it was kind of hard to hide the large picture behind his back.

“Really?” Eirik still seemed surprised.

 

“Yes,” Preben smiled and shakily handed Eirik the canvas.   
He picked at his own nails as Eirik slowly ripped the paper off, feeling terribly nervous that perhaps he'd fucked up. Maybe the flowers had another meaning? Maybe Eirik hadn't been flirting with him at all?

“I suppose I should be giving you an Ambrosia flower... but I decided for these instead,” Preben explained and stared awkwardly at his own shoes as Eirik gaped at the painting.

 

“You, you figured it out,” Eirik replied softly, barely able to make himself blink as he admired the numerous little white flowers.

 

“Took me a while,” Preben coughed. “But, uh... yeah,” he grinned sheepishly. 

“Shit,” he heard Eirik whisper and was pleased to see Eirik was about as red as the roses he had in his store.

 

“I'd ask you out for coffee, but I think you'd rather just sit and drink the stuff I have in my shop, right?” 

“Yeah,” Eirik nodded. “I... prefer that actually.”

“But dinner?” Preben asked.

 

“Dinner would be nice,” 

“Tonight?” Preben stepped closer, not sure who was more nervous; him or Eirik.

 

“Would love to,” Eirik replied with a whisper.

 

Preben smiled from ear to ear.  
“Excellent!” he beamed. “Don't bother with nice clothes, I'm banned from those places anyway,” Preben laughed.

 

“I can't possibly think as to why,” Eirik replied with a wry smile.

 

“I'll tell you another time,” Preben winked. 

“Don't make me regret this,” Eirik grumbled. “Or I'll fill your home with peony’s,” 

“And they mean?”

“Anger, for the most part,” Eirik smirked. “But also shame and pretentiousness,”

“So if I piss you off I get my home filled with flowers?” Preben really couldn't help but smile in return. “That is some serious threat,”

“Indeed,” Eirik attempted a glare, but his mask of nonchalantly was slipping and Preben could tell Eirik was having far too much fun to actually be angry.

“I promise I'll behave,” Preben smiled. “Wouldn't want any thorns in my side either,”

“Probably wise,” Eirik chuckled.

“Pick you up outside here at six?”

“Sure,”

“Awesome! You'll love the place I have in mind!” Preben could hardly stand still, far too excited.

“Undoubtedly,” Eirik replied softly.

Preben wanted to close up his shop early, but he had patrons that had booked his time, and as much as he wanted to just sit and admire Eirik tending to his flowers, he had to at least try to uphold his reputation as a great artist.

Still, he couldn't help be nervous when he finally stood outside Eirik's shop at a little before six.

Even more so when Eirik greeted him with a small wave before closing up the shop and joining him on the side-walk. 

“Hey,” Preben said and felt stupid for being so nervous.

“Lead the way,” Eirik said and let Preben take his arm.

Preben felt a little sense of pride when he could show Eirik his favourite little pub, and even more so when Eirik seemed to enjoy himself.

 

“Like the name,” Eirik commented after he'd successfully drank about a whole bottle of wine. “Black rose. Very good choice,”

“Figured you'd like it,” Preben laughed. “Although I suppose it means something, doesn't it?”

“Black isn't exactly a happy colour,” Eirik looked around a little. “But we can always make up our own mind what a black rose really means...”

“Is that allowed?”

“Eh,” Eirik shrugged. “Who's going to say I'm wrong? Another florist?”

“I'd pay to see two florists fight actually...” Preben scratched his head thoughtfully. “Like, can you make weapons out of flowers?”

 

“Probably, but I think I'll stay out of a fight if I can avoid it.” Eirik carefully pushed his glass around a little on the table.

“I'd bet money on you winning,” Preben laughed and flashed him a wide grin. “Hell, all those plants you move about all day...” he gave a low whistle. “I'm impressed.”

“Is that why you were so excited to tattoo my back?” Eirik asked and Preben was dead certain his face was going far too red to go unnoticed.

“You have really nice skin too,” Preben managed to whisper as he tried to hide his embarrassment by hiding behind his beer glass.

 

“Even the rough patches?” Eirik asked and ghosted his hand over Preben's.

“Yeah,” Preben mumbled.

“Kind of you,” Eirik smiled.

Preben couldn't think of anything else to say, he just wanted to sit and admire Eirik for a little while longer.

 

Which appeared to suit Eirik fine.

When Preben finally found his voice again Eirik was happy to sit and listen to Preben's tales of his youth.

That too felt right, and a new little routine was born.

Dinner once a month at minimum. Nothing fancy.   
Just the two of them, some food and drink and some hours all to themselves.

Preben decided it was bliss.  
Pure and utter bliss.

 

______________________________

 

It took a while before Eirik's shop became to hit it was always really destined to be.  
However, once the ball was rolling nothing could really stop it.

 

Most days it was busy.

People milling in the street, mostly stopping by Eirik's shop to pick up something for the ones at home, or perhaps on the way out. Preben found himself people watching more now than he'd ever done before.

However, some lucky days it was quiet for them both.  
On those days Eirik would happily slip away and hide for a moment in Preben's chairs, humming softly to himself or helping Preben drew up more designs.

 

Other times Eirik would help clean – and in turn Preben always helped put the flowers away for the night at the end of the day.

 

Preben would catch glimpses of the Ivy tattoo on Eirik's left leg, and every time he'd smile happily to himself.  
The matching one he sported on his on right leg was a perfect little reminder of their bond.

They didn't need rings.  
Ivy was more than enough to hold them together.


End file.
